Im not dead.

A fog descends on a farmland so empty. You can hear the dead in the neighboring woods like mice in the walls. Just because you can't see them doesn't mean they aren't there.

Kids playing outside. This isn't the city so the fear isn't as urgent. Most of us here came from the larger cities. I had become a mute for some months. I barely ate and my hair grew out. I kept up with my push ups but the lack of eating made me weak. I had spent so many days on the road. I had seen such fucked up things.

I had done such fucked up things.

I had flashes pf memories. Dead babies. Sex. Sex from before... before things happened.

You know that first heartbreak? Seeing that person's face on nearly every stranger? Feeling that piece of you crumble away with each passing day they don't call you? That soul shattering sob you allow yourself when you are absolutely alone. The darkness that surrounds you even though its a bright, sunny day.

I had all of that. The only thing left was survival. For all the depression I felt and all the sadness that washed over me I still would not allow myself to be bitten or use my last bullet. I found fellow nomads along the way. One established community was more like a cult. It came complete with a chosen god. A person they idolized and answered to. He was a disgusting con-artist who had a day job as a preacher before the shit storm. He was use to manipulating people so I had to hand it to him, you have to survive the only way you know how. Still creeped me the fuck out though. When I left I took a few of the followers with me. They were scared of the outside and it's where I felt the most at home. We kept north. All we did was struggle north. Hoping and wishing it would get better. Started to avoid the big cities. Started to only rummage through houses. Lost a few along the way, some simply found a house they felt was safe enough to make their own.

This phone got buried in my bag. My solar charger got busted long before my phone had stopped working.

This place has a a fire thing that makes a generator go. The generator is loud as shit so they have it encased and as far from The Hovel as possible. Thats what they call it. The Hovel. It is a semi-circle of RVs, trailers and the original standing farmhouse and storage building that were turned into housing. Rain collection everywhere. Rules. No one leader. The goal is to stay alive, pride aside. It feels more like a hippy commune than a regulated establishment. There is some drama but no one is stabbing each other and a new person is rare. We grow our own food and have a tally chart of chores. Gold stars included.

After years of struggle there is some kind of stability.

Assholes

We made it to the radio station a few days ago.

It was an eery entrance. They had tied shamblers to posts all around the parking lot and walls of the station. The building was nondescript if you saw it from the road. There wasn't any signs on the outside and there was only one station vehicle that has been covered in grime from not being moved for so long. There were two other vehicles parked at the far side of the parking lot. One vehicle was covered in a tarp while the other looked used (not covered in dirt and the ice that seems to be everywhere these last few weeks) but tucked away as a get away vehicle. We also parked facing the road in case we needed to leave suddenly. There wasn't many dead walking around the premises but the road its self seemed to be covered in them. They all took note of our direction and had started heading our way. We had a hand full of minutes before they would reach us.

I dialed the number again to the station and held my breath as I counted the phone pulses. Once I had gotten to four the cheery woman's voice answered, "Oy! You made it? Blaze is going to answer the door for you chaps. Be quick about it, mate." Click. She hung up on us. She didn't tell us which door to go to. We parked by the main door but it seemed all boarded up. I nodded and we all got out of the SUV and armed ourselves with weapons and our bug out bags. A crawler came around the edge of the building and Oliver stomped him with his combat boots. The older the zombie the softer the bones. I grimaced at the squishy noise the already open and oozy skull made as it was completely destroyed. The zombies that were mounted to the walls had missing arms from the elbows down but they waved their stumps enthusiastically towards us. Their broken mouths motioned, their eyes widened and their bodies shook trying to get to us.

"Wait." I said, "Whats that?" I whispered to the group.
"Sounds like a whistle to me." Kroger said. We all listened closely. It was a whistle, a high pitched human whistle. We all peered around the corners with our backs pressed against the building. "This way." Kroger motioned and we made our way down the side of the building. A big silver door with a number punch pad as the door handle was opened and a male head was poking out. That must be Blaze. I headed the group since I had spoken to the DJ.

"Blaze?" I asked. He just nodded and took a step back, holding the door open. We all hustled in. Once we had all gotten inside I had a sinking feeling once I heard the big metal door click shut behind us. What if this is a trap? We had come across people who hinted at cannibals who had lost their minds and found other humans a far easier prey than animals or growing their own food. They obviously had been here for a very long time.

"Look-- If you people are going to start some shit we'll shoot you. If you plan on trying to overtake us and get our shit-- you're dead before you even start. Agreed? Dana is a sweetheart that thinks she can save the world from those assholes out there but honestly, I think most of the world is assholes. We've rescued a few of you fuckers and most of the time people just want to mooch and get our shit and they ALL die trying. So listen the fuck up and don't be assholes. The only reason why I let her try to get other survivors in here is because I was one of you and she rescued me. We have rules. You don't follow the rules you're dead, okay? Dead. I'll strap you to a pole myself and let those other assholes feast on your asshole faces. Deal?" Blaze pointed a lot and got in our faces. Avery flinched a couple times making John buck up at Blaze and I just tried to keep from rolling my eyes. This is a great tactic to see every ones temperament before we get too far into their safety zone. I respected what this Blaze guy was trying to do but I honestly just wanted a safe place to sleep that didn't involve smelling the butt-funk that has become the group. We all smelled terrible, it was true.

After we all vocally agreed to Blaze's terms we were corralled down the narrow hallways into a conference room where, I'm assuming, Dana was seated at the head of the table. There were blankets and pillows along with other sleeping essentials scattered around the room. Dana stood as we all entered and she motioned for us to sit as three armed individuals joined Blaze strategically around the walls of the room. Another smart move on their part. Not that we had any plans to overthrow them, but Blaze made a lot of valid points about assholes earlier.

"Now that Blaze has probably scared the bejesus out of you, it's my turn." Dana smiled a coy smile and sat back down, her machete resting on the table in front of her. She was dressed for indoors. Her feet in tennis shoes, her legs only covered in black leggings and she wore a loose fitting tshirt with a light but fitting runners jacket partially zipped up. Her hair was cut very short but styled in a girly fashion. Most notably, Dana has a large scar that ran the line of her jaw bone from chin to ear. The scar looked maybe a year old. Her skin paled from being inside without windows. I was kind of frightened of her, to be honest. "Not to frighten you, of course, but to talk to you, I mean." Dana's accent went in and out. It made me think she had a split personality, which further frightened me. The lines of craziness had been deeply blurred in this apocalyptic hell. "We have rules here. Rules you must abide by and instead of punishment you just get death. No judge and jury here-- just me and mine. I've blindly trusted and tried to see the good in everyone only to get my face slashed and my body defiled. I have no time for bullshit. First impressions are important so I want this to be very clear-- Fear me, do not befriend me. I'm not here for kissy faces or songs by a goddamned campfire. We are at war here and this is my headquarters. I'm not interested in your 'before infection' stories and if you try to get romantic I will shove my blade deep into your bum." We all flinched at this image in our minds. She went on for a bit while we sat there, trying to stay awake.

After she had gone on for what seemed like hours I found my place to interject, "Miss, I don't mean to be rude and I certainly don't want to offend you but we are all awfully tired. We've been on the road for months and just got to your town a couple weeks ago. It's been terribly cold out and we will try our best to live by your standards. Honestly, we will gladly stay here as a temporary thing. We'll leave first thing tomorrow morning. It'll help us out a ton if we could just sleep for a couple hours without fearing for our lives. We've been in the combat zone, as you call it, for years. We settled for just over a year to only be sent back out into the war. We are all exhausted and hungry, while we respect your fear for lives sake we live by very similar bylaws. I appreciate what you're doing for others and especially for us. We will discuss your terms and abide by them willingly. Death is the last thing we wish on ourselves but we are still a unit. We have our own supplies and will only take up space until we can move on. Now please, may we continue this tomorrow?" The whole room tensed up, apparently Dana wasn't used to being spoken to in such a way, which made me get even more nervous. Her henchmen were ruled under a heavy fist, I feared what I had gotten us into. Why did they choose me as their leader? It's so much easier to be a follower when lives are at stake, no one wants that burden to bare.

Dana kept a solemn face during my interjection and I watched her expressions closely. The corners of her mouth kept north so I felt at least a little reassured. I tried with all my might to keep my voice unwavering. I found it difficult to be headstrong but submissive at the same time. Even though I had been a leader in our group for so long I had always been the friendly, co-parent to every decision and not so much the supreme overlord as Dana portrayed to us.

After a long pause Dana responded, "Sounds good. As you can see there is sleeping stuff in here, you have eight hours. I would like to add that this is the heart of the building. There are rooms all around you and more of us than you. We will have people guarding each door for our own protection. We have a working toilet that each guard will gladly escort you to. We won't take your weapons as it seems you only have melee and not firearms. We won't search your bags because, frankly, my gut is telling me that you people are decent individuals and I trust, ah... what did you say your name was?"

"Beth"

"I trust that Beth has you all in check and everything will be fine. Leaving in the morning isn't much of an option though because you have most likely let all the surrounding assholes know you are here so it's a bit crowded out there but you are prisoners, the guards are simply so my people can rest easy. Keep your weapons on you at all times, this is a war zone people, keep on your toes. If you have any questions the guards know how to find me. You are restricted to this room for the night, but in the morning we'll see how it goes. We have electricity in the building so feel free to plug anything in that needs charging and I have provided you with a hot plate and water." Dana hesitated and then nodded as she left, her henchmen departed with her, closing the doors on the far sides of the room behind them.

That was about four days ago. We were told the next morning that it would take up to ten days before we could leave again but she knows of the place we got directions to. She corresponds with the location and has sent people there before. She screens "prospects" for them, as she calls it. For as hard and mean she seemed on day one, she has softened up quite a bit. I guess we are blending in pretty well, we are just happy for shelter and the growth of numbers. 

Radio Silence

We switched vehicles. We came across a hybrid suv. We shoved all of our shit in it and us. We piled in like sardines.

As soon as we loaded in and was secured I pushed the gas pedal headed in the direction of the map given to us. There were buttons on the steering wheel and somehow I pushed the 'seek' button for the radio. A lot of white noise and right before I shut it off Avery screamed to turn it back on.

"Wait! Dont you hear that? Turn it up!" She was clawing her way to the front.

"Calm down! Im turning it up!" Oliver pushed the volume button a dozen times and we all froze, I almost slammed on breaks. We collectively held our breaths as we heard a womans voice through the speakers.

"Hello ZombieLand! O if only we were in a cheeky zombie comedy instead of this shithole deadhead bullshit! Hear that FCC? How about drop a charge on me? Yeah... well... [long pause] Three years ago my phones would have lit up with angry bastards and I would be saying my last two seconds on air before being burned at the stake. O, well. Fuck'em. Okay... as always, I broadcast over a hundred miles. If anyone is here. Give me a call, I think most major carriers are down but maybe a landline is still working? If youve got fingers write these digits down! If youre a zombie... uhh... go bang your head on a wall until true death comes a calling!"

As she rattled off the numbers a scramble for a pen happened collectively. Oliver happened upon one in the center console and scribbled the numbers on the front of a religious pamphlet that was by the pen. Luckily the dj said the numbers over a dozen times. Unanimously we decided to try every phone we passed by as this phone became heavier and heavier in my pocket. Finally, I told the group about my phone. How I see a bar or two flicker in and out but I havent tried to call anyone since three months after my exclusion in Greensboro.

I reached in my pocket and dialed the number. By this time we had pulled over and were standing beside the vehicle my fingers trembled as I heard the pulse and then click of a connection. I could hear the DJ in the background scramble to answer the phone. 

"Hello? Hello? Hello? I can hear you breathing!" The dj was yelling.

I took in a deep breath and Avery screamed at me to respond.

"Hi." My voice broke. I could hear my echo in the suv.

"Where are you? Are you safe?" The DJ insisted.

"Safe. Yes. We're safe."

"We? There are more of you? Look-- im going to cut on some music and give you directions here."

The music startled me. We loaded back into the suv and turned the music down. I repeated the address and directions while Oliver wrote them down. It was an hour away. We are nearing our destination.

Let's see how this goes.

Fog.

Warmth has returned. It was frozen before. Ice. Snow. Sleet. Rain... so much rain.

Now fog. So much fog.  The fog masks us as much as henders us.

We were able to get out of there. The ihop. We left yesterday. We slept in a barn last night and woke up to fog. We crossed a bridge yesterday. A very long bridge. Abandoned cars and remains still scattered around. Someone had been there before us and cleared a path. That is comfort. Knowing there is someone else out there.

We had found a large pack of supplies. It looked like an abandoned military distribution tent. It was set up in front of a Wal-Mart right down the road from the ihop we had held up in for weeks. There was a note in a ziplock bag tucked in some of the food. It was directions. It could be a trick... we are aware... but we must try. We have to try.

Few

Its been months. We finally made it. A much colder climate. We went north. North. North. We stayed away from snowy states and large cities.

We are back in North Carolina. Rednecks and small town America. Its so cold the shamblers move in slow motion. We set up in an ihop. The gas stove provides heat.

We have only been here for a few weeks. Its so nice to have companionship.

Out of so many we are now few. Maybe we will find more survivors soon. We leave notes on walls and on buildings. We are going to brave a store soon. Amazingly some stuff has been left. Our recon provided good info.

We are few but enough. We are enough.

Zombies hate rain.

Quiet.

Lots and lots of rain.

Then quiet.

Benny says it might have been a hurricane. Zombies hate the rain. They are like deer, they find a sheltered place and stay there until its over.

During the heavy downpour, day three, we decided it was safe to [quietly] reside in my living quarters of the apartment since the rain would muffle us anyway. We were able to peek through the blinds and see only one visible zombie. It is possible he squeezed under the gate or got pushed over the top. In a herd its just like a mob of angry people. Some shamblers get pushed into crowd surfing or trambled into immobility.

We were all so happy to be out of that stinky attic. With the two bedrooms and two full baths and a decent sized laundry room-- we were grateful to be out of each other's space.
This morning we awoke to a clear sky, crisp air and moans and groans that seemed right at the door. Luckily I had put the chicken and barbed wire to make going up the stairs almost impossible for the walkers to get up here. We had reinforced it before hiding in the attic. You can never be too careful. We peeked through the window and saw four zombies scratching the air in our direction. The air had cleared and our subtle noises of being awake had drawn them to us. We hd added two more "hurtles" to the staircase. The one closest to the top was the tallest and would have to be removed at least partially before if we were to melee the zombies who were actively drawing more attention to us. One was at the bottom hurtle and the others were at the second.

After some debate we decided to take them out by arrows, at a distance, instead of breaking down our last defenses. We also hope that the stench will mask us now that the air is so clean. One shambler is happenstance, four is a break in the gate or surrounding fences.

The biggest stretch of wooden fence is directly behind my dwelling but we can only see so much within the stairs/building. The metal gate is least likely where the breech happened. We still have a lot of sunlight so within the hour we are finding a way to recon without removing the hurdles on the stairs. The previous owners lack mountain climbing gear but we are thinking of just scaling around the larger hurtle and doing the rug climb over the rest. Leaving isn't the issue.... its a quick return we are worrying about.

I have volunteered myself for the recon and Oliver wants to join me. I think we will just have to do the slow decent and if need be retreat to another building to draw the dead away from the living. It helps that Oliver and I trust each other and we work well as a team. John wants to come too but I don't think this is a job for big numbers just yet. If we have to reclaim the entire complex it will be easier with more people later. This is part suicide mission, part territory dependence. We have a home here.

We will not give it up so easily.

Helicopter Herd

I snuck out this morning. Right as the sun climbed up over the tallest trees. I scaled the fence and landed on my feet on the opposite side. Glancing around and steadying my nerves I notice only one visible zombie and he was on a balcony in the apartments across the street. He too was soaking in the sunrise. If he had held a cup of coffee in a hand it wouldve been picturesque. Instead his head was tilted toward the sky and his entire body seemed shifted to one side in an unnatural manner.

I kept low and scampered along the edge of the field peppered with skinny trees. I paused when I noticed the small body of a child sitting at a picnic table on the edge of the playground. It was slumped over, motionless. The ripped up, dirty clothes instantly reminded me this was no longer a child but a mindless ghoul. Kid zombies are the worst. No matter how decayed they seem to be they remain more limber and agile than the adult counterparts. There seemed to be far more children undead because people can't see past their small faces into their milky undead eyes.

My first experience with the undead was a small child. The grisly scene in the hotel I worked at pre-apocalypse flashed behind my eyelids with each nervous blink. My body ached and my jaw clinched. My nervous system was on overdrive. My feet pointed themselves back in the direction of the gated apartments.

No. I can do this. I quickly and quietly leveled out my crossbow and squinted to get a better grasp of depth. With a slow exhale my arrow whizzed through the air and sunk deep into the skull of the small shambler. She barely flinched. I waited a beat. Zombies tend to travel in packs like elephants or stray cats. I slowly took in the horizon and when I was satisfied  there wasn't any other undead I made my way over to retrieve my arrow. As I pulled the arrow out I heard the moans coming from around the corner. A fence and a house blocked my vision from my position. I slowly moved to where I could see around the blockage without giving my position away. There was a young looking shambler pushing a baby stroller down the middle of the road. Two more children zombies were sitting together, mouths open, staring into the sun. A bigger male zombie was bumping, full bodied, into a garage door a few doors over. I did a few glances behind me and noticed the little girl had fallen backwards off the bench of the picnic table. Her body stiff from sitting for so long made her finger straighten out and point in the direction of the sky.

I looked back in front of me to see all the zombies look in the same direction at once. Toward the sky, facing true north. They heard it before I did. A helicopter. Low flying. Fuck.

I doubled back, quickly. I wasn't too concerned with making noise because the helicopter was moving very slow and creating much more noise than I was capable. By the time I had got back within the gates everyone was on top of the perch with binoculars.

We are split 50/50. Some think we should chase it others think we should barricade ourselves for the herd that is most likely to follow the noise past our little homestead. I voted to barricade and be smart. Jeremy, Davis and Krista on the other hand... they jumped in Jeremy's truck with their bug out bags and drove off into the distance.

I estimated we had an hour, if we were lucky, before the herd reached us. We would be lucky if it doesn't rip down our barricades. There has been estimation among us that a herd could apply enough pressure to bring down a house... just by pushing and bumping up against it to get past it. After much quick debates we are now held up in my attic. I had some food stored up here already and the group each brought more supplies with them. We have a chemical bucket toilet and a lot of naps are being taken by all to help curb the crazies. We can hear the shuffle of feet and the moaning. We all are wearing ear plugs and speak by writing letters to each other. We are hoping the gate holds. This has got to be how it feels while waiting out a vicious tornado. We have planned on staying in this tiny attic for a week and then moving down into my actual apartment for a few more weeks before actually accessing the possible damage. I'm on edge about being with an infant. Even the smallest amount of noise could turn the herd towards us.  I would hate to kill a baby.... but its my life or theirs. I will always choose me. I keep thinking about the hummer I had commandered. A couple days ago I had moved it just beyond the fence closest to my apartment. I purposely moved it about an hour hike from the apartments toward the highway that should be a feasible escape. The hummer has six months of food supply in it and it already had some water stored in it as already from when it was meant for the military. I had the vehicle its self stored in a very unnoticeable location. I had already stashed random locations with food and water along the way. If I need to cut ties and bolt I have the means to do so. Oliver has been hovering over me with John closely in tow. John and Avery have apparently become a couple at some point. How did I never notice that before?

Krista, Jeremy and Davis are assumed dead at this point.

We have a very small vent we are using to keep peeking out to see if we should run or wait it out. I won't be able to charge this phone with my solar charger in this hot attic. I will try to check in often until then. I shut it off in between posts for obvious reasons... I only dream of this phone ringing and it being help. O, if only.